


Bad Romance

by xndh



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Desire, Explicit Language, F/M, Minor Violence, Passion, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 15:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14772057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xndh/pseuds/xndh
Summary: The Alliance is growing, and so is some serious attraction between the Commander and Theron Shan. They haven’t really had a chance to talk (or do anything else) since his arrival on Odessen -- until now… Things seem to be going very smoothly at first, but then a blast from the past threatens to thwart the kindling passion.(Some head canon here, slightly altering the first good one-on-one and the start of the relationship between T.S. and the Commander.)





	Bad Romance

_Five years. Fucking five years just…  gone. Her old life and everyone in it… lost. That was all she could think of when she fist awoke from her carbonite slumber._

_Not everyone mattered though. But some losses she could not bear. She basically had two choices: shut down and carry on or perish._

_She chose the former. As it happened, fate provided her with a formidable and welcome distraction in her fresh hell: she had an army now, growing rapidly around her, and it was hers to command. The Alliance – the_ only _power rising to challenge the Eternal Throne and its tyrannical Emperor Arcann._

_It was a struggle at first, but gradually, as days turned into weeks and months she began to feel like a leader. If only that had been the extent of things she could feel ever again…_

_But no._ He _had to come in and change the game._

 _Theron Shan. The former Republic SIS Agent. They’d never declared what the thing between them was. Some flirting and teasing, a few kisses exchanged in secrecy – that’s about it, and not quite. She'd been terribly attracted to the man, and how could she not? He was all the expected – tall, dark, handsome. Intelligent, and aware of it. Hot-headed and brazen. Just her type. But it was never serious. Shan had been just a pastime, such as one Lieutenant Pierce, the sophisticated savage. Something to spice up her union with the Imperial Captain – a marriage which sometimes functioned at such_ peak efficiency _she just couldn't take it._

_At least that’s what she’d told herself all those years ago. It was a poorly crafted lie. Even back then she’d admitted, if only to herself, that there was always something… different between her and the spy boy from the moment they met._

_It had been difficult to forget those hazel eyes._

_Theron had been some secret ingredient of Lana Beniko’s rescue op, and then he’d arrived on Odessen – all of his own accord. He hadn't given up on her (she rebuked the thought that her precious Captain seemed to have done just that). And – she realized – he was constantly somewhere in her proximity. She felt his gaze linger on her wherever she went. She noticed him getting slightly flushed whenever she looked at him for two seconds too long._

_She began having dreams of him. Hot, bothered dreams. Night after night. Uninvited, persistent. She tried to fight it but slowly, surely, her heart began to thaw._

 

\---

 

The Wrath was alone in the war room. Although the Odessen base never truly slept, the buzz always died down during the quiet hours, and that's when she found herself there, standing over the central holo map projector, thinking and analyzing, running scenarios in her head.

Her personal holocom beeped and a voice message began playing. The damned thing had been doing that all day long – she was receiving outdated messages from years ago, and some of them kept coming through multiple times. A very annoying glitch. At some point it was just easier to set the device on autoplay.

Absent-minded, she twirled a spoon in her supersized cup of hot caf, half listening to some outdated report from three years ago, when her thoughts began to wander. She recalled a dream from last night. Hmh. She hadn't really thought about how long it had been since she last had sex with… well, anyone. And absolutely no one had dared approach her in _that_ sense recently. Not even Lana. She winced at the entire subject. Things were much easier during the day when she was thoroughly occupied; so many matters always demanded her attention that there was no room for… this stuff. But the nights were becoming… wasn’t it enough that she had to dream about Theron Shan? Did he have to haunt her waking thoughts? And, to rub it in, she realized it had been _five years_ … no, almost _six_ now, since she last –

“Commander.” The low, full voice disrupted her thoughts. It sent a shiver down her spine. Her frustration dissolved in the strange sensation.  
  


A pause.  
  


“Agent Shan...” She tried to sound indifferent, but failed. The smile that spread across her face trickled into her words. Besides, the pause had been too long.

She turned around slowly and let her eyes wander in the dim lighting of the room. Ah, there he was, at the doorway leaning against one side of it, arms crossed. Such a familiar pose. She looked at him from under her lashes.

The spot where he stood was murky at best, and she felt more than saw him staring at her. Such audacity. He was taking her in very carefully. She felt a slow, deep surge of heat swelling and winding upwards in her gut. Surprising?

Finally, Theron moved. He walked across the floor, measuring his steps, his blasters clanking softly against his thighs. She leaned back against the edge of the holo projector. He reached the center of the room, and a ray of muted blue light hit his face. He turned away from it as if looking for something, then languidly wandered off to a side cabinet. Grabbing a large container from the top shelf he poured himself a shot of what seemed like whiskey. He took a careful sip, let out a content sigh and propped himself against the table, mirroring her pose. Oozing self assurance. Annoying. But so charming. She’d heard of his reputation as quite the player; no strings attached, ever. A girl or a guy in every port. Or something. No wonder. He was one hot piece of ass… Wait. Was that a pang of jealousy she felt?

“Nothing like a nice, malty drink after a long day, huh?” He took another sip. “Working late again, Commander?” He abandoned the side table and approached her.

The Wrath chuckled. “Now how would you know I was here _again_ , Agent?”

Theron didn't flinch. Not in the slightest. Had he finally wanted to get caught? She had sensed his presence many times before, of course. In fact, she'd secretly hoped he would come out of hiding already.

“You're not the only one staying awake at night, strategizing.” He paused again, quite intentionally. His choice of words was just… _Damn_.

“And since we’re technically still at work, thought you’d like an up-to-date report on my recent endeavors in finding suitable allies. I mean it’s very recent – had an epiphany of sorts just this morning when you were out wreaking havoc among the…”

 

He chattered away and she obliged him; this was a game they'd played before. A dangerous game, a part of her brain reminded, but nothing she couldn't handle.

He talked and paced around the holo table. Trivial stuff. She pretended to listen. Her eyes swept over him from head to toe, and again, and she tried not to stop for too long at his well-shaped biceps, those taut thighs, and that… _Fuck._ It was late indeed.

“Commander?” There was a hint of concern mixed with his amusement. “Everything ok?”

“Never better,” she almost snapped at him, trying to keep her cool. She lifted a hand to her forehead and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just a little exhausted, there’s… something I’ve been battling for a time now,” she muttered, trying to hide the slight blush dancing about her cheeks, threatening to give her thoughts away.

“Anything I can do to help?” An earnest offer.

“Not… really. Let’s just say it’s the kind of thing only I can find a solution to.” Her face was red as an Imperial insignia now, she was quite sure.

He looked at her curiously. “Don’t worry, I get it. It’s not me, it’s you. Fair enough. I’ll make myself scarce then. Give you some space.”

She looked up at him, incredulous. He flashed her a brilliant smile.

“Kidding of course, you can stop sulking now. Want some whiskey or something?” he offered.

She gave him a sour look.

“I’m good.”

He downed the rest of his drink in one.

“Perfect.”  
  


Theron made his way back to the cabinets and poured them both a double. The Wrath scoffed in protest, all the while admiring his well-formed backside. As if sensing her stare, he turned around deliberately slowly. She struggled to avert her gaze. He stood still for a moment longer, assessing the situation, then started towards her with the two glasses in one hand _and_ the bottle under his arm.

He removed the glove from his free hand with his teeth as he approached, then placed the bottle on the edge of the holo table and offered the Sith a glass.

“Cheers.”

Theron took a hasty sip from his drink and then set it down to peel off the other glove. Leaning one hand against the table he made a vague gesture with the other before picking up his drink again. She noticed a very strong five o’clock shadow, and dark circles under his eyes. Someone else been having sleepless nights and rushed mornings?

“So… here we are. In the war room, in the middle of the night, with nothing better to do with our lives. Two of a kind, eh? Workaholics I mean. Remind me again – when was the last time you took a day off? Or a night, or even half a night?” The tone of his voice was low and deceptively relaxed.

She raised an inquisitive brow at him and remained silent.

“That long ago, huh? Me too. But when you _do_ take time off, and I know that you must, just curious – what does the Alliance Commander do for some R  & R? Don’t tell me it’s--”

“Classified”, she interjected, throwing him a sideways glance, clutching the drink she’d refused.

 _Almost six years._ The thought was more a carnal instinct than an actual sentence in her head. She stood but two feet from the Republic. The warmth emanating from his body sent more shivers down her spine. Temptation rippled through her. The Wrath dipped her lips in the golden liquid. Strong stuff, definitely fuel to the fire. Oh what the hell. She threw the entire glass back, then grimaced.

Theron laughed quietly and gave her a refill. He was still trying to act casual but his hazel eyes were sharp. His body language spelled out an open invitation. He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

“Is that so… see, now you’ve piqued my interest. That’s just the kind of stuff a talented spy such as myself simply can’t leave alone. Tell you what” – he shifted a couple inches closer to her – “Let’s play a game…”

“I’m not going to like this, am I,” she objected.

He chuckled. “Depends on what you like. And that’s what I’m trying to figure out. Now. It’s just a friendly game of guesses. I get three, and if I guess right you have to treat me to whatever your favorite pastime is,” he shrugged.

“And if you fail?”

“I won’t.”  
  


The overconfidence was simply unbearable. Theron’s eyes glistened in the pale light of the holo map table. _Game on then._ The Wrath’s pulse quickened but she kept a poker face and stood her ground.

“First guess… ” His gaze wandered, studying her expressionless features and then swooping lower, returning swiftly back to her eyes. “You’re not much of a drinker, are you – though you can hold your liquor just fine, no argument there.”

She sneered at him.

“But I’ve heard of certain spices that are apparently quite popular among the Sith. So that would be more than a possibility.”

“No. That’s definitely not it,” she hastened to reply.

“Hey, to be fair I didn’t really place my bet yet.”

“Sounded to me like you did.”

Theron stared at her for a second, then sucked in a breath and shook his head, admitting defeat. She relaxed a bit, and offered him a wry smile. He noted her hips swaying as her weight shifted.

“Rrright. You’re insufferable. Ok, ok… Two more guesses. Or, as I like to think of them – elaborate results of deductive reasoning based on the intel I have on you.”

“Now, how does that not surprise me at all.”

Theron grinned. He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head. “Hmm. Now, this might come as a shocker…  and let me finish! As much as your line of work entails going out there and bashing things, I’d still say – and your exquisite physique certainly supports the argument – that you also enjoy bashing things in your spare time. It’s an outlet of sorts, and when you’re going against something voluntarily it’s different from work. It’s like hunting the big game for you. Not because you have a mission. Not because you must. Because you can. Because you want to. …Yup. That’s my guess. Bashing things. Killing them dead. I’ll drink to that.”

He clinked his tumbler to hers and finished his drink, and then poured himself yet another one. The bottle was emptying fast.

The smile on the Commander’s face grew wider and she felt nostalgic all of a sudden. She weighed the glass in her hand.

“Ah, if only that were true. Perhaps it was once, long ago, when I was still a lowly apprentice, a pawn in the game of Darths and Dark Council members. That was a time before I had any real power. Or responsibility.” Her eyes grew darker. “But… not anymore. There’s so much death. All day. Every day. Even the most hardened Sith grows weary of it. I expect it’s the same for the Jedi. For all of us. Death itself is not a power, and it’s not an answer – _those_ things stem from the feeling of being stronger than your adversaries. It is the state of feeling _alive_ in combat _._ There’s… I’m… struggling to reach that state, that feeling these days. The war is taking its toll. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll never give up this fight and I’d never wish to be anywhere else than in the front lines, leading the assault but… I often find myself numb to my victories because there really is no end to the death. Peace comes with such a high price.”

Her smile had faded. She sighed and fell silent for a moment.

“Besides,” she then added, clearing her throat and forcing a sarcastic grin, “There’s hardly any _big game_ left in the known galaxy now that would truly be a match for my power. I long for the chance to face Emperor Arcann and High Justice Vaylin again. _They_ should prove to be a challenge worthy of… of it all.”

Theron was at a loss for words. She’d done it again – he hadn’t been able to predict the turn their conversation had taken. Her impermeable front had cracked, revealing some of her innermost thoughts to him – something she would probably end up regretting the next day. The urge to venture further into her world and the instinct to want to protect her from all imaginable harm made his heart swell all of a sudden. Even though he very well knew she needed no one to protect her.

“I hear you,” he finally said solemnly, “Been there. With the death part at least, I mean.”

She drank deeply from her whiskey and then closed her eyes, shuddering slightly.  
  


Theron stared at the woman before him. The slender and yet shapely form, the pale, scarred and tattooed skin; the full lips, the smoking red eyes; the silvery curls that cascaded down her bare shoulders and back… She always wore revealing armor. Such boldness in the face of danger. No Jedi would ever be so foolish, or so confident. His eyes traced a path from her lips down along her neck and all the way to a generous cleavage. He felt a tingling sensation in his stomach, and some serious heat starting to build up below that. She was the most beautiful, contradicting lord of the Sith he'd ever set eyes on – how did she manage to be so radiant and so dark simultaneously? He wanted her bad; his need was growing exponentially. The shots of whiskey were swimming in his head. All he had to do was reach for her. The only question was how she’d react, being the most unpredictable creature he’d ever encountered.

She heard the soft creak of his leatheris jacket. When she opened her eyes again, he was standing only inches away from her.

“Third time’s the charm… ” he muttered as he met her gaze and held it. With just one step he closed the remaining distance between them.

Theron placed his hands on the Sith’s waist. Her flaming eyes widened in surprise. Her white skin was cool underneath his fingers but he could feel the fire and strength burning within her. Her hands came up between them, delicate fingers almost touching his chest, but she didn’t push him away. He tightened his grip and leaned forward until their foreheads met. He was breathing heavily now. His hands traveled down to her hips. She gasped and then frowned.

“That’s no guess,” she breathed. Her eyes lit up, flickering with a dangerous hunger.

“Oh yes it is,” he whispered as he pulled her body to his and pressed his mouth to hers.

He tasted whiskey and salt on her lips. Theron kissed her long, deep and demanding, holding her tight in his arms. She felt the same as all those years ago, but everything was different. Everything was better. She flung her arms around him and responded to his kisses so eagerly it almost knocked him off balance. Want kicked up in him, and his heart began to race. He felt her hips grind against his. She seemed to suck the life out of him.

“Stars!” he half cried, half moaned as he broke away from the searing embrace.

She stared up at him fiercely and licked her lips. “Agent Shan…” she purred, soft and velvety, and slipped her fingers in his hair.

That drove him mad. He wanted to crush her, he wanted her to torture him to death. Theron slid his hands down her back and picked her up, lifting her onto the holo table and sending bottle and glass flying through the air.

The lights of the table flickered. His weight against her knees forced her legs wide. He leaned forward, pinning her down on her back, his body aligning with hers. She felt something like a fiery tide rising inside her, heat rushing in multiplying waves, and it made her gasp again, and in response he pressed harder against her and buried his face in her neck, dragging his teeth along her jawline.

The Wrath’s vision went red with lust. Theron’s hands were all over her and they weren’t gentle; his lips and tongue were like liquid fire on her skin and she couldn’t care less if anyone saw them. Only thin layers of clothing and armor separated them, and she was ready to tear them off, just get everything out of the way, fast. Then, there was his low, husky voice again.

“I assume I was right, then..?” he breathed, brushing his lips against her ear. His hand moved up the inside of her thigh.

“What the blazes are you talking about, Theron?” Her voice was thick with desire. She was desperate for his touch.

He smiled. It felt intoxicating to hear her say his name for the first time in a long, long time.

“My guess. This…” his hand kept climbing higher, causing her to shudder violently, “… is your choice of rest and relaxation.”

“ _Theron Shan_ , you’d better – “  
  


A sharp beep of her holocom interrupted her. Another delayed message incoming. For the sake of…  She was about to blast the thing to pieces and finish her sentence when a voice from the past shattered the moment.

_“My lord, it’s likely I’m prattling to no one. Still, I had to send something. You’re not one for minced words, so I’ll be blunt: The Empire needs you. More than that - - I need you… ”_

She froze. Theron’s hand stopped moving.

As the message continued to play a change crept over The Wrath. Her pale skin that just moments ago had been flushed and hot turned to a gray shade. She didn’t seem to breathe at all. Theron gritted his teeth, not knowing what to do but listen to the monotonous voice of the Imp Captain drag on and on about how he would not give up the search for her and…

Memories came and flooded her mind. Things that she had locked deep inside her in order to survive the five year shock now suddenly surfaced, and threatened to undo her. Every word was like taking one blow after the other, each more lethal than the previous one.

Time slowed down. Seconds seemed like minutes.

_“… No matter what anyone says - - I know you’re alive, and I will find you. Even if it kills me.”_

The transmission ended as abruptly as it had began, and the room fell silent. The Wrath felt tears welling up but she fought them back furiously. _I… can’t… can’t think…_

Frustrated, Theron uttered something and reached for her. She reacted on instinct, and pushed him away with the Force. In a split second The Republic was flung across the room and all the way into the opposite wall. He let out muffled grunt of pain as he fell to the floor. She tumbled down from the table.

“I… I’m…  sorry,” she managed but she wasn’t sure who she was talking to.

She fled the room and fumbled through the dark corridors, making her way down to the docking bay. _The Fury._ She didn’t register the night watches as she passed them, alarming them with her harrowing presence. “Commander?” She boarded the ship alone, hastily, ignoring all safety protocols. _Hyperspace. Now._ Soldiers in uniforms started flooding the docks. Lights flashed. A muted siren blared in the distance as the pressure doors closed behind her. _Damn you all. Damn you to hell._ She revved the mighty engines of her interceptor.  
  


Theron Shan reached the docking bay.

  
  
She was gone.

 

\---

 

When The Wrath figured she was finally safely out of everyone's reach in the cold, black solitude of the deep space she pulled out the holocom containing the last and only message from Malavai Quinn. She played it again. _I will find you. Even if it kills me._ The tears she had pushed down came then, a river of regrets flowing out of her. She reached for him through the Force, spreading her strength thin, straining to the breaking point.

Nothing.

She injected herself with a dose of concentrated Symoxin and slipped under.

**Author's Note:**

> Already got like 2-3 more chapters, but getting them just right is gonna take a million years... sowwy ;) What I can say is that Theron will be the Sith Warrior's main man from here on out. Fun fact: this fic started out as a Quinn/Sith Warrior romance/smut, but then that blasted Technoplague simply stole my character's heart, and I had to change the story :D


End file.
